Him
by MirrorImage003
Summary: One knight is not like the others. Mulan-inspired/Medieval AU. Rivamika.


_"I can see straight through your armor." ~ Mushu_

"Listen up and I'll make this short." The booming voice of the Grandmaster caused the already saluting knights to straighten their posture. "The Prince's Guard is retiring his position, meaning one of you men will be chosen as his new Knight."

The bearded man paced in front of the squad of elite royal guards, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. "You are all excellent, capable men. Soon the Prince himself will be coming to decide which of you will succeed as his new Guard. I wish you the best of luck."

He nodded in dismissal and they all began to discuss the news excitedly.

"Tatsu!"

Dark grey eyes tracked the twenty-four year old brunette as he waded through the crowd, stumbling over his own two feet. "Eren."

"Tatsu," The man ran a hand through his already messy hair, bright green eyes flashing. "Can you believe it? Erwin is retiring!"

"I heard it's because he lost an arm protecting the Prince from an assassin the other night!" The pair turned as two other men walked up, one tall and lean, and the other big and stocky.

Eren's eyes widened in surprise, crossing his arms over his beige tunic. "I thought that was just a rumor, Jean."

The taller man shrugged, hand resting on his hip. "Not saying it's a fact, just what we-" he gestured to the second newcomer "-heard from some others. Right, Reiner?"

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm going to try to become the next Guard," the large, bulky man declared.

"I am too, so you better watch your back." Eren smiled and punched his broad shoulder good-naturedly.

Jean scoffed, a cocky glint in his narrow eyes. "Don't press your luck. You all know I'm going to kick your asses."

"In your dreams, Pony Boy." Reiner smirked, flicking the other knight's ear.

"What about you, Tatsu? You gonna try to be Erwin's successor?"

All eyes turned expectantly to the quiet individual who was characteristically aloof. Long, choppy black hair swept into dull grey eyes. Whereas most people would be put off by such an intimidating aura, the three men were used to the seemingly detached attitude, having trained together for months. The monotonous voice answered, "No, it's not my kind of job," to which Eren widened his eyes in surprise.

"You're kidding!" His hand raked through his thick hair. "You aren't even going to try? But you're the best here! If anyone deserved the position, it'd be you!"

"Tch. What are you complaining for, Jaeger?" Jean cocked his head, a skeptical look donning his face. "It just means less competition for you, and better odds. Not that you had a chance anyways."

"Shut up, Horseshit, I was just curious." Eren scrutinized the face of the stoic soldier. "You really don't want to become the Prince's Guard? At all?"

A dismissing shrug and small shake of the head left all three men puzzled and mystified.

"No." The knight confirmed before turning and walking back to the barracks.

Reiner rubbed his chin, lifting one bushy eyebrow. "Y'know, I always thought there was something weird with him."

xOx

The sharp clang of metal on metal echoed off the stone walls of the large training room. Dozens of young, able-bodied men sparred in groups of two or three, kicking up dust in their wake.

Sweat soaked strands of ebony hair stuck to Tatsu's forehead as his sword took the brunt of an attack.

The blue eyed, pale skinned man across from him grunted with effort as their feet shuffled over the cold floor. He advanced, right arm extended in an attempt at catching his taller opponent off guard. Tatsu blocked the blow, returning it with one of his own as he had been for the past fifteen minutes.

While many of the other men had already won and lost spars, going on to switch partners or take breaks, the two knights in question had yet to land a single hit on one another.

A small audience had formed. Among them stood the training instructor, watching with a critical gaze and pursed lips.

"I'm starting to get bored. Sure you don't want to just surrender?" The blonde man jested.

"Don't get too cocky, Steffen. I wouldn't want to accidentally cut off your big nose."

Steffen's response was narrowed eyes and a fast strike to Tatsu's ankles, who jumped and landed deftly in a crouch to avoid a second swing at his neck. The spar continued, and some of the onlookers, including Eren, placed bets on the winner.

Their bets were never settled.

Muscles tiring and breath running short, Tatsu put his all into one last lunge. His sword sliced across Steffen's chest, who flinched just enough for it to avoid causing serious damage. However, he dropped his sword and clutched at his open shirt, his formally blank face going taught with panic.

Tatsu took advantage of his odd behavior and swept his feet out from under him with the flat side of his sword, proceeding to point the tip at his opponent's face before his eyes widened in shock.

There was a moment of silence among the group of swordsman as all gazes leveled on the white strips of cloth winding around Steffen's chest, loosened by the final blow. Little slivers of pale skin flashed through splayed fingers. Doomed blue eyes met onyx.

The crowd of men began shouting in anger, some stepping aggressively towards the "man" lying prone on the sparring grounds. But they backed away reluctantly when the instructor shoved his way to the front.

"What the hell is this?!" A meaty hand wrapped around the young knight's arm, lifting him off the ground and dragging him towards the training room exit. The other irate men followed closely, shouting profanities and shaking angry fists.

Tatsu watched with wide eyes, knuckles turning white around the hilt of his sword. He jumped when someone shoved his shoulder.

"Come on, Tatsu!" Eren jogged past him, thick brown eyebrows furrowing in confused tension. He beckoned with one hand. "Jean and Reiner are up there already, let's go!"

The black-haired man shook his head to clear it of the growing sense of dread and followed after his friend. He later wished he hadn't.

Outside, Steffen, or whatever her real name was, kneeled in the dirt before her former companions.

"Crazy bitch!"

"-think this is a joke you-"

"-gonna teach you respect-"

"Bet you're sorry you ever-"

"-make a fool out of us!"

The shouts died down when the instructor raised a stern hand. He settled his hard brown eyes on the woman before him.

"What is your name, impostor?"

She grit her teeth, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. A sharp kick to her stomach had her wheezing on the ground.

"I asked you a question, bitch."

Her glare was deadly and proud. Tatsu held his breath. "Annie Leonhardt."

"Do you know the penalty for posing as a man and joining the army, Annie?" He spit her name out like a curse.

"Probably something cruel and unfair." Another kick.

The instructor drew out the sword hanging on his hip. "Death."

There was no surprise on Annie's face as two men roughly grabbed her arms, shoving her forward so her head hung over her knees. "If you kill one of your own best soldiers because of her gender, than I would rather die than be around sexist imbeciles like you."

He raised his sword. "We aren't killing off one of our best soldiers. We are simply getting rid of an infection."

When pale silver met pale skin, Tatsu shut his eyes and tried not to scream.

xOx

Tatsu spent a good portion of that night in the bathing quarters.

He stared into the foggy reflection in the mirror, taking in the red-tinted eyes and shaggy hair.

Shaky hands tugged at the uncomfortable tightness in his chest. A grimace twisted his lips, delicate fear lacing his every breath.

Annie Leonhardt. Bile rose in his throat at the dull gray eyes and smell of death that accompanied the name.

He didn't dare blink, even as the mirror image before him grew shoulder-length black hair and a faded pink dress.

An infection.

Mikasa Ackerman.

Blood oozed from the crown of her head, dripping over her reflection, down her cheekbones and soaking the collar of her military-grade shirt.

She squeezed her eyes shut and left the room.

xOx

"Stop holding back, you asshole."

Mikasa suppressed a smirk and kicked out again at Eren, who wrapped an arm around her leg. He heaved upwards, but she already had adjusted her balance, jumping and swinging her other leg at his head. As her boot clipped his temple, she used the momentum to spin herself around midair, just barely managing to yank her trapped foot out of his grasp and land face first in the dirt, hands shooting out to soften the impact.

She flipped back onto her feet only to find Eren rubbing at the bruise forming on the side of his face. He threw a half-hearted glare her way, although it lacked any real malice.

"You good?"

He huffed. "Yeah yeah, I'll be fine. I mean, I did kind of ask for it."

Mikasa opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off.

"You would've gotten fucked up whether you asked for it or not."

The deep voice came from a surprisingly short man around their age, who appeared to have been observing them for a while. He circled around so he was facing them both, looking bored despite the tautness around his eyes.

"You're too slow, even if you do know a few tricks when it comes to hand to hand combat." He gave the brunette a once over. "You have no idea how to anticipate your opponent's next move, which means you'll always be one step behind him."

Mikasa's eyes narrowed while Eren sputtered, cheeks going red.

Her companion took an aggresive step forward. "Oh yeah, and who are you to think you know anything about combat? I've been training here for six months and I haven't ever seen your sorry face around."

The stranger studied him for a moment, before dismissing him and turning to the taller boy. "You, on the other hand, are less hopeless."

Mikasa grit her teeth at the backwards compliment, spine going rigid beneath her training uniform.

Angered at being ignored, Eren marched up and grabbed at the man's shoulder. "You little-"

In a flash the dark haired shorty had grasped Eren's arm, bent over, and flung him onto his back on the ground.

"And now you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

Without a second thought, Mikasa was launching herself at the newcomer, eyes glinting with irritation. She punched out at his shoulder, but he deftly swiveled around her attacks, a small smirk of satisfaction curling his thin lips.

She blocked his kick and he dodged her blows. They eventually began to circle each other, fists raised and weight shifted onto the balls of their feet.

"Don't tell me you're as reckless as he is. I actually thought you'd be a challenge."

"I'd tell you to pick on someone your own size, but I'm afraid fighting toddlers is frowned upon."

They advanced at once, clashing in a heated spar. Mikasa could hardly believe how fast this guy was. He struck with fierce strength and without inhibition. She was only able to block half of his attempts, the other half bruising her stomach and bound chest.

But when he managed to land a particularly hard kick to her side, causing her to stumble and wheeze, she saw red. He was nothing but a pretentious jerk, and she wasn't going to let him bully Eren and her around.

Using her forearms to stop his next few punches, she stalled and studied his stance. He seemed to use his left leg more than his right, and he rarely blocked her attacks, just weaved out of the way.

Spotting her opening, Mikasa lunged forward. She forewent her usual powerful hooks in favor of quick and direct strikes to his torso, catching him off guard. As he tried to readjust to block her jabs, she landed a solid uppercut, snapping his head back. Her foot jutted out, kicking him right in the sternum and sending him skidding backwards. He barely avoided a clumsy fall, sliding his foot back to halt the momentum.

Mikasa registered the grudging respect behind his piercing glare just before his hands were at her shoulders, full body slamming her to the ground. When he landed straddling her hips, calloused hands tightening around her wrists, keeping them to the ground, she couldn't help it.

She panicked.

"Get the hell off of me!" Spit flew from her mouth as she writhed under his hold, a condensed feeling of fear multiplying in the pit of her stomach.

She managed to free one of her hands, and before she could think her palm was stinging and a red mark was blossoming on his cheek.

"What the fuck-" He jerked back, letting go of her other wrist. In his surprise, one hand flew to his burning cheek, and the other was planted right on her chest.

His voice cut off and his eyes flew to his hand. Mikasa couldn't breathe as she watched his face go from confusion, to shock, to recognition.

_Shit._

Their gazes locked a second before he was forcefully yanked off of her.

Eren held him by the collar of his shirt, completely oblivious to the way the short man's eyes were still fixed on his friend. Mikasa slowly got to her feet.

"So you think you can just come in here acting all high and mighty, and we'll just let you do whatever you want? Guess fucking again." He drew back his fist to smash the prick's face in when a large hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Jaeger! Ackerman!" The Grandmaster stared incredulously at the two knights. "What in the seven hells do you think you are doing?"

Eren let go of the man's shirt, rage turning his turquoise eyes a deep shade of green. "This bastard started-"

The middle-aged knight's mouth twisted under his golden-beard as if he had tasted something sour.

"'This bastard' is your Prince."

Mikasa stopped mid-breath, a numb feeling spreading through her aching body.

"Wait. W-What?" Eren croaked, his anger dissipating into disbelief.

The Grandmaster turned and bowed fervently to the short man. "Prince Levi, I am deeply sorry for whatever grief these two have caused you. I will have them stripped of their knightly titles immediately and thrown out of the-"

"There's no need." The Prince wiped at some blood on his lip, no doubt from Mikasa's uppercut. He seemed to recover from his revelation, and didn't even spare Mikasa a glance. "I was in dire need of a real spar anyways. My royal trainers are shit at actually training me."

A petite, auburn haired woman in billowy robes appeared between the crowd of knights that had formed, followed by two flustered servants.

"Oh my-!" She stepped right into the Prince's space, fretting over the bruises forming on his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. "Your Highness, I told you to stay by the palace guards and out of trouble, and look at what you did! You make your way into the _training grounds_?!"

Mikasa exchanged a bewildered look with Eren. Really, what was happening?

"I'm fine, Petra." The Prince batted her hands away. "And I told you earlier that I was going to be scouting out the knights for my replacement Guard."

Mikasa began to put the pieces together. He had been watching her and Eren spar because he was trying to find which knight was most worthy of succeeding Erwin. This frenzied woman must be his main attendant.

"You shouldn't have gotten into a-"

"Petra." His dry voice adopted a gentler tone. "I'm fine."

His grey-blue eyes traveled over the different faces, landing on Mikasa's. Something akin to amusement tipped his mouth into the ghost of a smile. She met his knowing stare with furrowed brows and pursed lips; a warning.

"Leave me be to continue. I'm sure there is at least one suitable knight here." He looked away. "After all, we accept only the best men in the kingdom."

xOx

Days passed, and all the while the Prince continued to roam the training grounds, observing his knights. He often paused to spit out sarcastic comments, or critique a knight's technique, but did not enter into any more brawls as he had with Mikasa.

Some knights shook under the monotonous eyes of the Prince, and others pushed themselves even more as he watched. He had yet to even hint at who he would pick to be his Guard.

Jean leaned in, muttering to Mikasa. "For a Prince he sure doesn't look like all that."

She nodded mutely, unable to extinguish the growing sense of paranoia that one of the most powerful people in the kingdom now knew her secret.

xOx

Four days since her spar with the Prince, and Mikasa was still alive to wield her sword.

No angry shouts. No hands shoving her to her knees. No rocks being hurled at her head.

Tatsu was alive.

Tatsu was a knight.

She avoided the Prince at all costs, and yet she still felt a heavy gaze following her with every step she took.

xOx

It was a week after the Prince had come to search for his Guard that they were all called to stand in formation.

The Grandmaster stood beside the Prince, gesturing to the army before him.

"Who is your pick, my Prince?"

Tense silence stretched across the multitude of men. Many of the knights strained to listen, waiting to see if their name would be announced as the honorary Guard.

Mikasa watched Eren shift his weight to the tips of his boots from the corner of her eye and prayed to God that he would be chosen. More than anything, she prayed that Tatsu would live to fight another day.

The Prince tipped his head down, raking over the knights.

Steel-blue clashed with onyx, and a predatory smirk just barely touched his lips. Mikasa felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"Him."

Author's Note: This was done for Rivamika Week, Cycle 4, Day 8. Hope you all enjoyed it! Most likely going to remain a one-shot for now, but I'll flirt with the idea of continuing it depending on feedback from you guys!

Thanks for reading :)

MI3


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